


Just One More

by Baronesscmd (SweeterThanYourDarkestSin)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25127320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweeterThanYourDarkestSin/pseuds/Baronesscmd
Summary: One more day, one more morning, one more sunset, one more sudden storm.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4





	Just One More

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've wrestled with posting for a while. I was in a not so good spot when I wrote this, so I've kept it tucked away. But Love and Hope are powerful things.

“I wish we had met each other before we were broken.”

It takes her a few heartbeats, blinks, and breaths for his words to sink into her mind and make sense. Words so softly spoken the gentle breeze nearly lifts them away before they reach her. She curls her fingers together, pressing them over her already fragile heart as though it would stop the cracks from forming.

It hasn’t before, so why should now be any different?

“Oh, I was broken long before this. Long before love lost and happiness fled to leave ruin in its wake. I have never been afraid of being broken; I’ve been falling apart for so long I can’t remember what whole feels like.

“No, what truly frightens me, what I wish more than anything, is for someone to help me put my pieces back together.”

And he turns to look at her as she lets the glamour fall away.

Her soul is a patchwork piece not even the most deft with a needle could hope to replicate. Stitches in red, and pink, and yellow cling fraying around her heart; love and hope are powerful bonds when woven right.

But the multitude of colors make him step forward, and he wants to touch, to feel her pain for himself; but it's not his place, doesn’t have her permission. He shouldn’t even be seeing the emerald thread of envy that lattices over her belly, the cobalt despair that flows down her arms from a dark spot in her heart, the black stitches that make up so much of her. 

“You see, I’ve been broken for a long while, but I haven’t given up. Not yet. One more day, one more morning, one more sunset, one more sudden storm. I keep pushing, and I don’t always know why. It would be so much easier to pull the threads loose and fall apart.”

He watches her gentle fingers trace over the needlework before she’s whole again; at least on the outside. She reaches out hesitantly, afraid of being rebuffed, but he could no more turn her away then rip his own threads loose now. He takes her small hand in his own, and feels heat rush up his arm from the point of contact.

It's like warm bathwater, gentle sunlight on an upturned face, comfort food settling in your belly.

Through teary eyes, he watches as gold, (gold of all colors!), rushes up his arm, snaking over his torso, tumbling over limbs, to fill in the spidery cracks in his own fractured soul.

But the colors don’t stop there; it's a rainbow, a painters pallet spilled from their joined hands that race over flesh and sink in deep. It's coming home, truly knowing you belong, filling in nearly every available space. 

Neat stitches rush like a wave over his legs, patches like leaves and uncurling ferns wind across his shoulders. There's the sudden knowledge of stars sinking into the freckles and scars all at once that make him weep. 

And she is no more composed. Glowing like starlight, firelight; she is ablaze. She reaches out, taking his other hand greedily, letting more of the colors, the sensations ripple and roll through them.

Eventually, it all slows down, and they both sink to the ground exhausted and drunk on emotions. He releases her first, holding his hands up against the blue sky to watch the colors settle beneath his skin. He watches worriedly as some fade and fray, while others hold steady in their magnificent hues. 

“Don’t worry.”

He turns to her, watching as she traces a line of stitches over her shoulder. Some have the opalescent gleam his touch put there, but several have faded back into the heavy gray they’d been before. 

“It just means that you have more people who will make you brighter.”

She’s glittering and muted all at once as she pushes herself to her feet, hair tumbling over steady shoulders. It's now he notices the double lines snaking over her soul, before the glamour settles over her again. His eyes dart down to his own body, picking out the thin thread woven tightly against his own soul, but only in some places.

“I learned, long ago, that I bind myself to people in permanent ways. It wasn’t my decision, it was just how I was made. I don’t have one perfect other half, like some people do. Instead, I learned I was made up of pieces of everyone who truly meant something to me. I was created broken, made with empty pieces so that I could find them all again in time.”

She places her hand over her chest, the colors igniting like a blaze, and he sees his own shade light up a fraction of it. 

“I’m made up of all the fragments of my beloved people. My family, my friends; they each gave a piece of themselves to my creation.”

She reaches down and gently touches a finger tip to his chest, a small flare of brilliant purple bursting at the contact. 

“You have one great, true love still coming for you; but I am so glad, so glad, that we have met.”

She reaches down and pulls him up, and he follows beside her as she begins walking. 

“And why, exactly, is that?”

She rolls her eyes and lunges for him, but he’s already moving away from her pinching fingers and grin.

“We are all broken, in some way or another. Searching for something to bind us together. I got lucky enough to find you.”

She started glittering again, colors weaving together, bouncing under her skin. 

“I may be broken, but I was blessed enough that I was given pieces of soul from two people who love me despite everything. My family, my best friend, and now you too, all sit side by side. I was given more than one soulmate, more than one person who loves me when I cannot love myself.”

For a moment she’s blinding, and he turns away, hand splayed over the flare of heat in his chest. 

“I hope I’m there when you find your soulmate.”

He startles at her closeness before she bursts into laughter and takes off. There is still a fragment of her that is missing, a true love piece that hasn’t come along yet.

“I hope I’m beside you when you find yours.”

She smiles up at him, and for the first time in a long while, the state of his soul, broken or not, and the heart in her chest, hurt or healing, concerns them not. She threads her fingers through his as they continue walking, arms swinging.

“Live one day at a time.”

“Love more than you hate.”

“Breathe.”

“Believe.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
